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Fleet Street Kitchen

Oh heavenly Fleet Street Kitchen, thank you for making my neighborhood your home.
Fleet Street Kitchen nails the restaurant world’s supreme triumvirate — outstanding food, impeccable service and an ambiance so inviting you can’t help but plan your next visit before you finish your meal. I am in love.
Each of us at our table of six were so smitten with our dishes we were compelled to pass around little bites of this and tastes of that, determined to woo one another with our choices. Woo we did. Fleet Street Kitchen makes it so easy.
Fabulous cocktails? Check. That was the best gimlet I have ever had the pleasure of sipping. Thankfully, my dear friend didn’t mind sharing as she had the mind to order the drink in the first place.
Winning appetizers? Hell yes. I cannot wait to return and sample more. The duck confit was stellar — moist and luscious without feeling remotely greasy or fatty. The sunchoke soup was not only delightfully savory and fresh, but also so beautiful to look at you hesitate (just for a second mind you) to dip in your spoon. And applause went all around the table for the chicken liver parfait.

Beautifully plated, mouth-watering entrees? Score again. When I return, I’ll have a tough time choosing between trying something new or going for the meltingly tender braised beef short ribs, the roasted lamb loin or the veal loin drizzled with a heavenly lobster veal sauce. The kitchen even pays serious attention to the vegetable side-dishes, which shine on their own. I am eager to attempt the shaved brussels sprouts salad at home.
Tempting desserts? Appears to be affirmative. I passed on dessert this time around, but I noticed the dark chocolate tart and lemon thyme cake both disappeared fast. Their cheese plate, however, has my name on it for next time, which cannot come soon enough. Go try it for yourself. There’s a very good chance I’ll be there too, either lingering over a gimlet at the bar or tucking into something wonderful at a table. If you spot a woman licking her plate, it’s probably me.